Epiphanies from Five
by nhsweetcherry
Summary: John thinks about Virgil. Short and introspective.
Virgil sees the world very differently than the rest of our family does.

This is one of many epiphanies I've had, and I blame it entirely on the long, quiet hours I've spent on Thunderbird Five. In fact, I've had so many epiphanies up here that I should capitalize that – Epiphanies from Five.

For example, my Epiphany concerning Scott is that if any of us brothers died in the line of duty, Scott would die too. Maybe not physically, but he definitely wouldn't be _Scott_ any more. I think that he would probably leave the rest of the family – thus leaving behind the chance of facing that kind of pain again – and rejoin the Air Force. He would turn into a cold, practically heartless automaton. With his single-minded focus and ruthless abandonment to his job, he would quickly ascend in rank until he was at the top of the food chain, sitting at some desk somewhere with rows and rows of medals on his chest that mean nothing to him. Everyone would pass off the hard decisions to him, because with his black-and-white perspective, his rulings would be quick and unbiased. And everyone would be very scared of him.

Okay, so not all of my Epiphanies are happy. Guess I should have warned you first. If it helps, I'll tell you that my Epiphany concerning myself is that I'm highly analytical, and that I am able to detach myself from my emotions for long periods of time. I also like to try to see all the potential ramifications of a scenario, which is probably why I think of things like Robot Scott.

Anyway, back to Virgil…his Epiphany is much nicer than Scott's, I promise.

So, I already said that Virgil sees things differently than the rest of us do. What I'm still trying to figure out is whether his outlook on life is a nature thing or a nurture thing – as in, is he built that way, or was he shaped by his childhood, his art, his music, his training as an engineer, his lifestyle as a Thunderbird, _et cetera_? I waffle on a day to day basis…sometimes I think that if Virgil had been raised in a different household, if he hadn't had Mom around to introduce him to the piano or to art, if he had never gone to engineering school, or if he had never become a Thunderbird, then he would be entirely unrecognizable as Virgil. He would look the same, have the same voice, the same walk – but his personality would be entirely different.

But then other days I'm positive that all of those _things_ that have become such a deeply ingrained part of Virgil could in fact be stripped away, and he would still be our Virgil at heart. Even if he didn't have calluses on his fingers from the way he holds his paint brushes – even if he had never done so much as a quick doodle in his life – he would still see the beauty in everything around him. Even if he had never run his strong, graceful fingers over the ivory and ebony keys of a piano – even if he didn't know Bach from Elvis – his soul would still sing. Even if he had never gone to engineering school, he would still be good at working with his hands. And even if he had never become a Thunderbird, he would still be kind, compassionate, and empathetic toward those around him.

So…I've basically just established that I don't have a clue why Virgil is the way he is.

And that I have way too much time to think.

Now you're probably wondering how Virgil views the world, and what makes him so different from the rest of us.

I'll start with a visual. Whenever I look down from Five during storm season and see the spiral clouds of a hurricane, I think, _That's our family_. And then I look at the eye of the storm – the calm place in the middle – and I think, _And that's Virgil._

Dad, of course, is practically an entire hurricane all by himself, and when you add in Scott, Gordon and Alan, Tracy Island should probably be measured at category 5 most of the time. I'm the observer – always have been, even when I wasn't physically distant in the way that I am now – while Virgil is right in the middle of that massive, swirling cloud of raw energy.

They all revolve around Virgil, and they don't even know it.

I'm not sure if Virgil knows it either.

I don't know if he realizes the power he holds in those strong, calloused hands – the power to heal, the power to soothe with music, the power to enchant the eyes with a masterpiece painting.

I don't know if he understands that his very presence is an anchor.

I don't know if he knows that his smile lights up an entire room.

Virgil is complex. He has dozens of intricate piano songs committed to memory, and has composed many more. He could probably write out a thesis on art history. He can listen to Brains talk about the way parts of a machine will fit together – and not only understand it, but draw it, or even build it.

Virgil is simple. He can spend hours studying a single branch or flower, marveling at its beauty. He doesn't need anything to entertain him; he's content to just _sit_ , sometimes with his eyes closed, fingers tapping slightly as he listens to music in his mind. Other times his eyes are wide open, just taking in everything around him. This is in strong contrast to our other brothers, who are always moving, who don't like to sit still and wouldn't be caught dead staring at a flower.

Above all, Virgil is solidly planted in the present. By nature – and by nurture – he has grown up into a kind, quiet, gentle soul…but one who, at the same time, is powerful, determined and passionate.

An epiphany is defined as a sudden insight into the reality or essential meaning of something.

So what is Virgil's essential meaning?

I'm still trying to figure that one out, but until I think of better words, I'll just say that Virgil is _centered_ , and that makes him our center.

Maybe someday I'll find a way to tell him so.

For now, I'm just content to sit back and watch the Tracy family revolve around its center.


End file.
